Lead Me On. Crystal Green

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      3

      SO FAR, EVERYONE had treated the subject of the video as if it was no big deal, and that gave Margot quite the shot of joy. Why had she even been worried? They were all way past college mischief.

      But she couldn’t ignore how some of the brothers, as well as Brad, kept glancing over at Clint. Even if they weren’t teasing her about that video, it was on everyone’s mind.

      Just one more reason to avoid him.

      She’d actually been working up to telling Brad about her basket for the past hour, but things were still a little haven’t-seen-you-in-a-long-time tense between them. Still, he hadn’t dropped any hints about having a girlfriend or anything.

      So why not go forward?

      She ran a gaze from his wavy dark brown hair to his smile. He’d always reminded her of Ben Affleck but much less cocksure...unlike another person she could name.

      But she wasn’t going to think of Kid Quick-Trigger on the other side of the room, in his booth, drinking whiskey. Mr. I’m-So-Cool-in-a-Cowboy-Hat. Señor Slick. She’d been telling herself to ignore Clint Barrows over and over, but this time she meant it.

      Brad set his beer down on the bar. It was still half-full. “It really is good to see you, Margot.”

      Did she hear a “but...” in there somewhere?

      “I liked seeing you, too,” she said. “Catching up has been nice.”

      Was nice the word for the conversation they’d been having about running a dairy farm?

      Then again, was her auction basket all about the art of conversation?

      He fiddled with his beer mug for a moment, then said, “Some of us are getting up early tomorrow to go fishing. Don’t ask me why we torture ourselves like this.”

      “Why do you?” She smiled, hoping to get past this semi-awkward stage and right to the basket.

      “Because that’s what we used to do,” he said. “Fish. Golf. Be sportsmen.” He checked his silver watch, then got out his wallet to pay the bar tab. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the homecoming pregame kegger?”

      He was...leaving?

      Margot’s Girl Survival Mode kicked into gear, telling her this was a bad time to blurt out that, hey, she’d really like to spend some private, quality sex time with him, and by the way, here’s what her basket would look like tomorrow evening at the auction, because she really, truly thought they could have quite the reunion all by themselves.

      One more adventure, right?

      But, ever since she’d gotten the news from her publisher, she’d started to wonder if, after college, she had set out to have adventures on her own only because experiences filled a hole that’d been put there by never having a true home. Had she been trying to find one by going from place to place, person to person, just as her parents had before they’d passed on eight years ago?

      And...her parents. It’s not like they’d taught her about a whole lot besides “loving life” and “smelling the roses along the primrose path.” Sometimes, she even wondered if they’d loved her half as much as all their pleasure-seeking activities. One time, they had even turned a room in the two-bedroom house they’d been renting into an art studio for their projects, and she’d had to sleep on the couch. She’d been eight.

      The thoughts dogged her, even as she started to get the vibe that things weren’t gelling with Brad.

      He rested a companionable hand on her shoulder and squeezed it, then started to leave the bar. “See you later, Marg.”

      As he left, she tried not to let hurt set in. She was usually much better at this, distancing herself before anyone could do it to her first.

      She just sat there as he disappeared, wondering why Brad’s attitude didn’t hurt more.

      She decided to go, too, and she thought she felt Clint’s gaze tracking her out the door. Then it occurred to her... Even though Brad hadn’t teased her about the video, had it made him look at her differently?

      As used goods, viewed by hundreds of people sitting in front of a computer?

      It didn’t matter anyway, because she’d blown her chance to tell Brad about her basket so he could bid on it.

      On her way into the lobby, she came to a dead stop. What was with her? She’d always taken charge. It was what a single girl did.